It took me more than a week of living in this house to sneak into Patrick's office.
Why so long?
It looked like Patrick was around me every second. He was behind every corner, in every room, everywhere. He took few days off from work - an unprecedented act - to "help me settle", so he said. In two days, I was suffocating and on the verge of leaving, even if it meant I would sleep at the park bench.
He went back to work after almost a weeklong home staying and finally left me be. So I thought. But he came to visit unpredictable, few times a day and check on me.
I began to feel desperate to find out what was going on. I couldn't keep this act of my obliviousness for too long. My patience was already getting thin. My mind was storming me with unanswered questions constantly, wondering, and imagining all the reasons why. I wanted to confront Patrick, to demand answers, to erase that stupid, honey-sweet smile from his face.
Finally, the opportunity appeared when Patrick had to leave for a business meeting. He tried to convince me to go with him but I was unwavering. When I heard the car drove off, I stay in my room for some time worrying he could come back.
Not wasting any more time I opened the door with a shaking hand and freeze. I stood in the doorframe of Patrick's office rather uncertain and lost. I was finally here but I had no fucking idea where do I start and what do I exactly looking for. I felt like I should have been preparing for this detective job harder.
However, Patrick's table was a good starting point. I examined every drawer, and carefully placed all the shit back at its place. I looked through every shelf, every corner, but there was nothing worthy.
I crushed exhausted in his chair and looked around. There was no place I didn't search at.
Except...
My eyes landed on a big painting on the wall. It was heavy, in a carved wooden frame.
How could I forget? I wanted to smack myself. Hard.
I came closer.
No way in hell I could take it off the wall by myself. I remembered Patrick told me there was a mechanism that would lift the painting so you could get to the safe behind it. I examined the frame, all the lines, and spirals until my eyes landed on the carved grapevine. You would never saw it if you didn't know it was there. I pressed on one grape and the frame went up. It was like in the movie and I felt myself like Lara Croft. Except, I was not tomb raiding, but my husband's safe.
Great, how can I open the safe now?
I didn't bother to listen to what was the password when Patrick had told me. I thought I had no business looking inside. Now I know ignorance is not bliss.
"What do we have here?... Eight number code. What that could be?"
I could now vaguely remember Patrick told me it was a date. But what date? I tried Patrick's birthday.
No.
Maybe my birthday?
Pff, no.
I tried his parents' birthdays as well. The safe still did not open.
The date of our wedding?
Something click and door opened showing me what was inside.
"Seriously our wedding? What a joke!"
The safe was big. The upper shelf was full of neatly placed stacks of money.
There were many documents on the lower shelf. I took a big folder and look through it.
The first thing I learned: this was definitely, what I had been looking for.
The other thing: I need someone qualified who could help me to understand what these were.
The third thing: I need to cover my tracks, so Patrick didn't find out beforehand that I was on his tale.
I took my phone out and took a photo of every single document in that safe. Carefully I placed everything back and closed the safe, put down the painting, and examined everything to be sure I didn't leave anything behind. With a slick smile and the feeling of euphoria and victory, I left the office hugging dearly the phone to my chests.
Already halfway up on the stairs the sudden slam of the front door made me jump and grabbed the rail with my hand to stop me from falling. I dropped the phone and looked with terrified eyes on how it slid every stair down right to Patrick's foot. With a ragging breathing, I saw Patrick leaned down and picked the phone. With a frown, he looked at it, and just like that, I stopped breathing.
"You broke your phone, dear."
I quickly run down and reach out with my shaking hand for my phone but Patrick was still holding it in his hand. I glanced at the phone then at Patrick and gulped a big lump in my throat.
"Could you give it back? I croaked with a hoarse voice and prayed to all gods for Patrick to put it into my palm. "Nothing to worry, just a small crack." I tried to smile cheerfully but it looked strained. I know I couldn't look more suspicious desperately clenching my phone and grinning nervously. "How was the meeting?" It was a weak attempt to change the subject but I hoped Patrick would let this slide.
"Not like I would love it to go." He answered after a moment of studying me.
"Sorry to hear that, anything I could help with?" I regretted what I had said the moment words left my mouth. I had no idea what possessed me to say that. It had to be my shattered nerves and I tried too hard to hide it.
I saw Patrick's eyes lit up and he quickly jumped the chance.
"There's one thing I would ask you. You need to sign some documents for me and that's all." He said as a meter-of-fatly, but I was immediately alerted.
"What documents?"
"Nothing big. Just formalities. You know, boring business, but you're still my wife and I need your confirmation."
"That's easy. You could divorce with me," I shrugged my shoulders and hide my raging emotions behind my best bitch-resting face.
"Eli, please, that's urgent, my career and our financial stability depend on this. We could talk about divorce after you sign the papers." His tone was patronizing as if he was talking with a child.
"Ok, but let's settle this tomorrow, I'm too tired now." I pierced my lips annoyed, slipping into familiar cranky, moody wife mode.
He was irritated but quickly composed himself. "Ok honey, go rest, we'll talk tomorrow." He kissed me on the cheek and I quickly retreated to my bedroom.
I need someone who would help me with these documents and quick.
Tomorrow.
I run through the list of people who could be helpful with this case and weren't loyal to Patrick. The list wasn't big. It was actually tiny, like one name tiny.
Theo
I typed the message to him asking to meet with me tomorrow for lunch. The answer came immediately 'Sure, beautiful. I missed you.' And I could finally breathe more easily.
"Well, this is shocking," Theo stated, looking through the papers I printed earlier today. I was absentmindedly picking at my salad that I ordered as soon as we sat in this cozy café not far from his work. "From these papers, I could tell that your husband was stilling from other shareholders, withdrawing sums from every operation the company made and tried to point it on you." Theo dropped the bomb at me. I almost choked on a chicken in my Cesar salad.
"What? I don't understand. I have nothing to do with his company."
"Well according to this," he showed me few documents from the stack, "You own half of that company. And according to this," he showed me another paper, "You own the account in Cyprus where all the stolen money went to."
"But I... "
"Is this your signature on all of this?" He pointed at my bold sweeping name on the bottom of every page made definitely by my hand. "So this is not forged. These are legal documents. You are the owner of one-third of the company. Moreover, from what I can learn the third major shareholder is Vlad Novich, who I should warn you is a criminal. And he would be very disappointed to find out that someone stole from him."
"But I didn't... What should I do? This is bullshit! Let me get this straight. My dear husband signed one-third of the company to me and stole from the Russian mafia boss making it look like it was all me? Moreover, he tricked me to put my name on all of these papers.
"Pretty much. You never read what you signed?"
"No, he never gave me time to read this, always in a hurry, and kept telling me that it's unimportant and boring business. I trusted him and wasn't interested in his boring business." I was feeling too many different emotions: betrayal, hurt, fear, confusion, anger. "I'm such a fool!"
"Yeah honey you are," Theo nodded his head. "And you're in big trouble."
As if, I didn't know that.
My head was spinning with all the information but I didn't understand one thing.
What he meant by telling he needed me to sign something? What else I could sign?
"Well, I could only guess here, but I think he would like you to transfer all your money from the Cyprus bank into his account so he could fling and leave you to face the consequences. Ow, look at this." He pointed his finger at the paper. "It looks like he wants to sell his half of the company and to proceed with this he needs your permission in selling as his still rightful wife."
Fucking Patrick. He wanted to take it all - money he stole and money he could get from selling his half - that must be a hell lot of money. Did Alexis know about this? Did they plan to run together leaving me here to deal with all the shit?
I need to think of a way out from this shit. I slowly drunk my coffee while thinking. Slowly some kind of solution loomed in my head.
"How much my share of the company is worth?" I asked pushing the empty cup to the side.
"Uum, I would say three hundred million dollars, give or take." He looked through the documents.
"Ok and how much my late husband stole?" He was going to be dead when I dealt with him.
Theo laughed but quickly answered when he saw my angry expression.
"There are almost two hundred million dollars on your bank account now. I can tell the exact amount of stolen funds when I see all the accounts and transactions."
"Theo, can you do me a favor?"
He nodded, pretending to look suspicious "Not sure I can help you to hide the body of your 'late husband'"
"You're so funny. Not. I need to talk to Vlad Novich."
"You think that is funny?" He chuckled.
I gave him no answer, looking as confident as I could muster at that moment.
"No, Eli. You can't just meet the head of the Russian mafia. Are you crazy? Did this news damaged your head?"
"Theo, relax. I have a plan and I would be ok." I said with determination. I was sick and tired to let everyone walk all over me. It was the time to tip the scales of luck in my direction.
So, buttercups, what do you think will happen next?